


wrecking ball

by ndnickerson



Category: Nancy Drew - Keene
Genre: Angst, F/M, Jealousy, Nancy Drew Files, Post-Canon, Romance, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-28
Updated: 2009-12-28
Packaged: 2017-10-05 10:23:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/40663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ndnickerson/pseuds/ndnickerson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bess and Ned have always been a little closer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	wrecking ball

"I think we should move in together."

Nancy sat on the other side of the table, under the meaningless umbrella, arm lazily stretched and a lit cigarette tucked firm between her fingers. They were social smokers, and she was a social drinker, so she was flushed and quick, and he knew he was probably setting himself up but he didn't care.

She raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

"Because we're not ready for a commitment."

He sat back, secure in that knowledge, and she laughed. "And that isn't one?"

"It's not marriage."

She flicked ash and looked down. "You're right."

The night was hot and humid in the deserted courtyard. Nancy's face had that soft glow to it, the one that came after her perfect makeup had been through an hour or two of dancing. After a year of their being back together, after nearly a year of sleeping together, he'd wanted to commemorate it somehow. This, at least, wasn't the same old offer.

Half his frat was already married. At this rate, he'd be married once he reached retirement.

"Do you think we're ready for that?"

_It's this or nothing,_ he didn't say. He'd been without her for long enough that he knew life would go on, regardless of whether she was a part of it. Less risk of debilitating injury, less excitement, fewer international criminals, but it would go on. He wasn't old, but he wasn't getting any younger, and if this was never going to go anywhere...

She was watching his face, and for the first time that night, she actually smiled, slow and genuine. Something had set her off, early, and he associated it with some new romance, something she had tried and failed to keep secret or casual, but it was done now. She knew that for him there was no one else and there would not be until she finally let him go.

And one day Bess, after one of their fights, had snarled to him that _that,_ she knew, she would stake her life on, would never happen.

"Okay."

The way he felt in that moment told him why it was that no matter what she did or did not promise, no matter how little or how much she could give, he'd come back for it.

He bought them another round of drinks at the bar and Bess's eyes were hot angry blue, Nancy's palm cupped at her ear as they whispered like children. And Nancy came back, almost flouncing, to him and twined around him. For a moment, for everyone else, they were perfect, lovestruck and brilliant, and Bess avoided them like the plague, but Nancy, in her way, did not notice.

When they made it back to his place, very late, he opened the windows and they had hot, slow, lazy sex with half their clothes still on, the kind where she sank deliberate bites into his skin and he could feel the strange firm texture of her heels at the small of his back when she came.

\--

The morning after their anniversary (there were so many anniversaries, he could number them all) while he was still lying in the twisted sheets, she kissed him goodbye before she headed off for her assignment. He looped his forefinger and thumb about her wrist and held her, for a moment, memorizing the faint beat of her pulse so he could carry it even when she was gone, and then she smiled and he freed her, wondering.

In the restaurant at lunch there were eyes on him, the kind of eyes he could feel, lingering on his still ringless left hand. One gaze in particular. Bess was in a group of thin catty brunettes, shoulder blades jutting like the remains of horned wings, and in the periphery of them, she was like someone else. On the way back to the table she caught his sleeve like an accident, her eyes elsewhere.

When George called him he went along immediately, the excuse to be a fourth where Bess's flavor of the week was the third. The cousins, together, threw the kind of casual and elegant dinner parties that he and Nancy never had the time or inclination to do. It was a married thing, a family thing, and he and Nancy were neither. Just two people whose furniture happened to share the same space.

He shook his head, hating himself for feeling this way, for feeling so at sea every time they were apart, knowing that it wouldn't end anytime soon.

He went out for some air and she followed, leaning against the railing so that if his gaze shifted (and in the very act of recognition he knew he had already somehow, at least partially, failed) he could take in a clear view of her ample cleavage. "Enjoying yourself?"

He shrugged and smiled a little, less than she. "The food is great, thanks for inviting me."

She bumped against him like it was rote, and maybe it was, but he smiled a little more. "You know, you can relax."

"I'm sorry," he sighed, and leaned down, his head in his hands. "I'm not being a good guest."

Bess gazed out, over the parking lot. Two drunk guys were trying to jump-start a pickup truck. A lone pair of wind chimes hung tangled and abandoned in a shedding tree. She absently shook her wrist and the bangles rang against each other, against bone. "You don't have to wait until she's out of town to come over, you know."

He smiled, gently, up at the moon. "That's just the only time you invite me."

\--

When he was younger, and more foolish, more headstrong, he had insisted that she give up taking cases. Her being an investigative journalist was like a lie they both told themselves. A press badge and a steno notebook forgave all sins, apparently.

Then she pursued a story, back to Washington, another one involving Marilyn Kilpatrick, and this time it made the national news. He saw her rental car on CNN that night, still burning, three blocks from the Capitol building, and when he called, frantic, they said she wasn't quite out of danger, they would know more in the morning.

He drove all night. He was there, the next morning, when she woke, her right arm bandaged and gauzed, her smile pain-stricken.

"Marry me," he said.

She studied his eyes for a second before she nodded, and he thought he saw relief in her expression just before he took her in his arms for a gentle hug.

\--

"Bess and I are going shopping today."

Ned almost choked on his coffee and Nancy raised calm blue eyes to him, her brow furrowing. "Are you all right?"

He nodded, vanishing into the kitchen to find a napkin, and when he was out of her sight he leaned against the countertop and closed his eyes. Nancy knew; he was sure Nancy knew. Every bit of guilt he'd been able to rationalize away, every stolen moment; they hadn't named them all, but he still saw her, still thought of her the way he always had, and she, jealous, emboldened by liquor, had been more than happy to urge him along. They hadn't come anywhere near a line that could be considered cheating. Just victims of circumstance and loneliness, and the shared history. The four of them alone knew what it was to sneak through a deserted madman's isolated house, knowing that the creak of a board meant bloody death at the end of a knife, or that a raving sociopath could be driven to some final, desperate act of violence with just a single word. All of them, with Nancy at their center, as their reason. Bound to her like soldiers on some suicide mission. Was it any wonder that when Nancy was gone, again, again, Bess would ask and he would come, hypnotized by the thought of it and the cautious desire in her eyes?

Bess wasn't Nancy. But with his eyes closed, in the dark, sometimes she was close enough.

When he finally opened his eyes Nancy was standing at the other end of the kitchen, staring at him, her mouth curved up. "It's okay," she said, holding her hand out, comforting. "I won't bring the dress home, I know it's bad luck."

He nodded. He'd never been very good at lying. Not to her.

She let her gaze linger on him for a moment longer before she went back to the morning paper and her thin dry toast, and he slumped against the formica, wondering if the jealousy he'd seen so clearly on Bess's face the night they had announced their engagement would drive her to do something foolish.

\--

It was the rehearsal dinner. His parents were happy, her father was happy, that they had finally decided to make everything honest. His parents had known that eventually she would come around, but this was Carson's baby girl. She looked gorgeous, in a little black dress. Bess, on their other side, was picking at her appetizer. She motioned to their waiter, who returned ten minutes later with another drink.

Ned could feel his stomach start to clench. He motioned for a double.

"You okay?"

At times like this, Ned had a list he went through in his head, to keep himself from admitting the whole thing. _We were broken up;_ it began. _Bess was hurting. We never really did anything, and anything we did, was while you and I were apart. When we got back together I never thought about breaking up with you for her. She and I are just friends. We've been friends since you and I started dating, and that's a long time._

_She's really pretty._

_It was a mistake._

"Fine," he said, smiling, and kissed her on the cheek. When she leaned over to return it, her foot brushed the paper bag of bridesmaid's gifts under her chair. The enormity of the entire marriage ritual was overwhelming. Presents for everyone they had even considered having in the wedding. Cousins he'd never even met before drafted as flower girls and program attendants. And Bess, right in the middle of it, Nancy's right hand, and every time he even looked at her he could feel how angry she was, with him. Even though it had been years since he'd kissed her.

The main dish was cleared away and Ned excused himself, feeling a sudden need for a cigarette. He was waiting for it; he felt Bess catch his sleeve as he walked behind her chair, and he pulled away as unobtrusively as he could, hoping she would get the message, knowing she wouldn't.

"We need to talk."

Nancy noticed. Of course she noticed. She saw her best friend stand up and push her chair in, as George took in the scene with wide eyes, because George probably knew what was coming as well as he did. _This is what gallows feel like,_ Ned thought as he took Bess's arm and led her out to the patio, where couples were dancing in the balmy night.

There was to be no privacy. He wouldn't allow it. Ned looked around for telltale boxes and lighters on tables, hoping he could borrow one before the fireworks started going off. Bess narrowed her eyes, mistaking his glances for dismissal.

"So you're just going to let it go like this?"

Temporarily defeated in his search, Ned leaned back against the brick wall and let his gaze meet Bess's. "I don't know what you mean."

"I mean, I thought..." Bess looked down, and with the horror growing in the pit of his stomach, he watched Bess bring her hand up to brush under her eye. "Did you just turn it off, when you went back to her?"

"Turn off what?"

Her eyes flashed at him, and he felt like a heel. "I know you had feelings for me. And even if you've fooled yourself into thinking it's over, I know you still do."

Ned shook his head. "Bess, that was a long time ago—"

"It wasn't," she interrupted. "It wasn't that long ago. I've had feelings for you since we met, and you can't tell me that if things had gone differently that summer, that you wouldn't have picked me instead."

Ned looked down. "But things didn't go differently."

Bess stepped in, far, far too close to him, close as she came during those dinner parties and dates they called by any other name, close enough that he could smell the faint trace of perfume still on her skin. "And this is our last chance," she said, gazing up at him, her smile softening when she noticed the infinitesimal flick of his gaze to her cleavage. "We can have a chance. If you'd just let us."

She put her hands on his shoulders, pulling her down to him, and he felt it before he could even turn his head to see. Nancy, whose curiosity was sure to be piqued by their entire scene, had finally found them.

From the expression on Bess's face, that was exactly what she'd wanted.

\--

Nancy finally let him into their apartment at three o'clock, the morning of their wedding day.

He had almost caught her before she'd made it into the car. Almost. Then it had turned into a race to see who would get to their apartment building first, and she'd made it, only because of her slender lead. He'd made it to the front door in time to hear all the locks sliding into place, including the chain. At about two a.m., he'd considered either breaking the chain or borrowing a neighbor's coathanger to unlock it, but either one of those eventualities meant being trapped inside their apartment with an angry fiancee, and that alone stopped him.

She was in her bathrobe, her feet bare. She stood in the doorway, where he had spent the night, fueled by anger at himself and at Bess, and preemptive anger against her for not letting him explain. He just hadn't figured out yet what the explanation would be.

"Do you have feelings for her?"

She said it without looking at him. Her left hand was in the bathrobe pocket. He couldn't tell if it was bare, if his guilt had already been pronounced.

His mind raced. "No," he answered, almost immediately.

Nancy nodded. Her eyes were red. "So what were you two 'talking' about?"

Ned sighed. "She has feelings for me."

"The kind of feelings that have to be expressed with her tongue down your throat?"

Ned steeled himself and stepped in close to her, too close for her to shove him away easily, and managed to sidestep her. "Bess is upset."

"_Bess_ is upset?" Nancy returned, furiously. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't throw you the fuck out right now."

"Because you haven't already," Ned said cautiously. "Because you're listening. Nan, I asked _you_ to marry me. Not her. You know that, before, when you were still at Wilder, things were... well, you broke up with me, is how things were."

"And you and Bess got together."

"You know that isn't true," Ned replied forcefully. "We were friends. You knew that. And, talk about shoving tongues down throats, I seem to remember that every time she and I saw you, you'd grab any guy around and make sure you showed me just how over me you were."

"So you're actually trying to tell me that nothing happened between you and Bess." She gazed at him with frank skepticism.

Ned sat down in the armchair. His armchair. "She was upset over Paul and I was upset over you and yes, she and I were attracted to each other. You made it damn clear that you weren't available, not to me. So it's a little hypocritical of you."

She snickered. "Ned, you know, you might actually have a valid point, except that all those guys you're talking about? Which, let's be honest, there were maybe five? Not hundreds. And not a single one of those guys is still in my life or trying to kiss me during our damn rehearsal dinner!"

"So you admit that I wasn't trying to kiss her."

"I don't admit anything," Nancy grumbled. "I just can't believe you're doing this to me. Ned, she's my best friend. And you're my best friend."

"And I'm in love with you," he said gently. "Not her. I probably do have feelings for her, just like you'll always have feelings for Frank. But I trust you not to act on them. Can't you just do the same for me?"

Nancy raised her head, her eyes shining. "How do I know?"

He sighed, his heart sinking, and pushed himself to stand. "I guess that if you can doubt me, I have my answer."

She blinked at him, rising quickly as he walked past her. "It looked... you looked..."

"I know how it looked," he replied, forcing himself not to look back at her. "The last thing in the world I want to do is hurt Bess's feelings. But she knows, she has known for a while now, that she is my second choice, and you're the only woman I'll ever really be able to love. I think, most of the time, that maybe you feel the same way about me," he said, suppressing his smile as he heard her soft laugh. "And if that's true, then this is Bess's problem. Not ours. I know you love her like she was your sister, but Nan, you're the one I want to spend the rest of my life with. I just feel bad that she doesn't have that."

He waited a long moment before he turned around. Nancy was perched on the back of the couch, facing him, her hands in her lap.

Then she laughed, softly. "Dad told me that if I wanted him to, he'd stand in the middle of the church this morning and tell them that the wedding's off. All I had to do was call him."

"Is that what you're going to do?"

She sighed. "I think if I don't get to bed soon, I'm going to look like hell in my wedding dress."

He let himself grin. "I wouldn't want that."

"No, you wouldn't," she said, meeting his gaze. "And you, Mr. Nickerson, won't even have the benefit of makeup, so I think you'd better go to bed too."

"It doesn't count as canceling if you just postpone for a few hours, does it?" Ned asked, taking her hand, smiling when he saw the ring still resting there.

"Why would we need a few hours?"

"I think I'd like a little makeup sex with my girlfriend before she becomes my wife."


End file.
